


Hit Me With Your Best Shot

by dear_monday



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Dirty Talk, Infidelity, Jealousy, M/M, Possessive Behavior, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-08
Updated: 2012-11-08
Packaged: 2017-11-18 06:26:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/557898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dear_monday/pseuds/dear_monday
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gerard tips his head back, challenging and unashamed. There are marks on his neck, blood blossoming under the skin, the bruises already ripening. It's too soon to tell whether they're bitemarks or fingermarks, but Frank wants to press his own fingers into the tender places just to watch Gerard whimper and squirm.</p>
<p>"So?" Frank edges closer, pushing further into Gerard's space.  "How was he?"</p>
<p>An unashamed PWP, featuring asshole!Frank and asshole!Gerard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hit Me With Your Best Shot

**Author's Note:**

> **additional warnings for mild but potentially triggering violence and depiction of an unhealthy relationship between two ~~assholes~~ deeply flawed characters.**

It's past three AM when the door finally eases open and Gerard slinks inside, his key snicking in the lock and the hinges whining.

Frank looks up from where he's sprawled on the couch, the lukewarm dregs of a beer still swilling around in the bottle in his hand. He's bleary-eyed, suspended in the weird no man's land between almost sober again and hungover. The TV is on, some shitty B-movie with the volume turned down. Frank hasn't taken in a word of it. He hasn't been watching. He's been _waiting_.

He watches Gerard creeping through the door and into the darkened apartment like a thief. "Where've you been?" he asks. His voice is rough with drowsiness and disuse, but he keeps his tone carefully neutral.

"The bar," Gerard says flatly. His hair is a mess and those two words are all Frank needs to hear to know that his voice has been screamed hoarse, and Frank snaps.

He's across the room in a heartbeat, dropping the bottle, grabbing Gerard's wrists and pinning him against the wall. "Like _fuck_ you have," he hisses. "Like _fuck_." He leans in, sniffing at Gerard's pale throat. "Jesus. I can still smell him on you."

Gerard doesn't say a word, just tips his head back, challenging and unashamed. There are marks on his neck, blood blossoming under the skin, the bruises already ripening. It's too soon to tell whether they're bitemarks or fingermarks, but Frank wants to press his own fingers into the tender places just to watch Gerard whimper and squirm.

"So?" Frank edges closer, pushing further into Gerard's space.  "How was he?"

Gerard's eyes have gone flat and dead, like they always do when he's angry. It's a glass wall that will crack if Frank hits hard enough, and of _course_ he can never resist.

"Was he good?" Frank pushes. "Was he rough? I mean, _everyone_ knows how you love that."

And, there. Gerard's glassy front cracks, and satisfaction kicks in Frank's gut, fierce and nasty.

"You wanna know?" Gerard drawls, cocking his hip and pushing back. He licks his bitten, swollen lips, goading Frank. "He was fucking _great_. You want me to tell you all about how good he fucked me? Just held me down, fucked me real slow and so fucking _deep_. Made me come so hard I nearly blacked out."

His eyes are dark now, his pupils blown wide, his smile feline and lazy, and Frank's stomach turns. He surges forwards and crushes his mouth against Gerard's, needing to stop the flow of words and the horribly vivid images they're vomiting into his head.

"Shut _up_ ," he growls against Gerard's mouth, crowding even closer and closing the space between their bodies. "Shut the _fuck_ up." He kisses Gerard again, rough and possessive. Gerard is _his_.

"At least he's not a fucking jealous bastard like _you_ ," Gerard spits, shoving Frank backwards. Frank reels, caught off balance, before he pushes back and hears the crack of Gerard's skull against the wall.

" _I'm_ jealous? You'll bend over for anyone who even looks at you and I'm _jealous?_ "

"Well, maybe I wouldn't _have_ to if you'd just fucking give me what I need!" Gerard yells, and there's a long, shell-shocked silence while they stare at each other, both breathing hard.

And then Gerard lunges forward and captures Frank's mouth, kissing him like it's a challenge. _Come on. Show me what you've got_. Frank kisses back, hot and hard, all teeth and tongue and spit. He curls one hand around the back of Gerard's neck and sinks his thumb into one of the burgeoning bruises, and Gerard groans. Frank yanks hard on his hair, tilting his head to lick deeper into his mouth, and Gerard shivers. Frank can't help imagining someone else's handprints all over Gerard - _his_ boy - and wanting to cover them with his own, lick away every trace.

"C'mon," Gerard says, his voice low and throaty. "Frank, _fuck_." He lets his head fall back, baring his throat and spreading his legs so Frank can get between them. Frank takes all the space Gerard is giving him and then a little more, mouthing at the soft part of Gerard's neck before biting down and listening with pleasure as Gerard's breath hitches up on a gasp.

"Still down to fuck, huh?" Frank purrs, skimming his fingers down over Gerard's ribs. "If he didn't wear you out then he can't have fucked you that good after all. You think you can even get it up again? Not too tired?"

Gerard doesn't answer, just pushes his hips forward against Frank's. And, fuck, he's hard already, his cock straining against those criminally tight jeans.

"You like it when people look, don't you?" murmurs Frank, keeping Gerard pinned in place with one word and reaching back to grab his ass with the other. Gerard whines, nodding and biting his lip. His eyes are dark and desperate, his skin flushed hot, his eyeliner smudged and his hair sticking damply to his forehead. "You like showing yourself off," Frank continues silkily, running the pad of his thumb over Gerard's lips and then pushing it between them, dipping into his mouth, and the pit of Frank's stomach drops at the way Gerard's cheeks hollow around it. "You fucking love it, don't you? Love knowing people are looking at you and thinking about taking you home and fuckingyou. Wondering how many drinks or pills they'd have to buy you or whether they'd just have to call you pretty before you'd let them."

"Frank," Gerard says weakly. His breaths are coming quick and ragged. "Come on, fucking... just--"

"Touch you?"

Gerard nods eagerly, but Frank smiles a slow, nasty smile and shakes his head. "Uh uh. You're gonna have to earn it. Fuck knows you've had enough practice. Maybe if you keep screwing around you'll even make a decent lay sometime."

Gerard draws a short, shocked breath and flinches as if Frank had slapped him, his cheeks flushing a shade darker. Frank should know better than to bait him like this, he _knows_ he should, but temptation always gets the better of him.

"On your knees," he says roughly, getting his hands on Gerard's shoulders and pushing down. As much as Frank enjoys making him squirm, he's achingly hard and he needs Gerard's mouth on his cock _now_. Gerard goes down willingly, landing with his knees splayed wide and his hair a dark, tangled halo.

"You've always known how to use that pretty face," Frank says softly, working his hand into Gerard's hair and twisting it until he whimpers. Gerard darts a look up at Frank through lowered lashes and leans in, pressing his face to the bulge in Frank's jeans and nuzzling against the denim.

"Can I blow you?" Gerard says indistinctly, his mouth hot even through the fabric. "Please? I want... I wanna suck you off."

Frank lets out an involuntary groan that sounds as if it was torn right out of his gut, and his hands feel clumsy as he fumbles with his zipper. Gerard restrains himself, just about, and Frank manages to yank the zipper open and shove his jeans down far enough for him to get his dick out. He wants Gerard's mouth, but he _has_ to give himself a couple of quick, rough strokes to keep himself in check. He fits one hand against the side of Gerard's face, and Gerard licks his lips before ducking his head and wrapping his mouth around Frank's dick.

"Aw, _fuck_ ," Frank breathes. He cups his other hand around the back of Gerard's head and thrusts deeper into his hot, wet mouth. Gerard's tongue is quick and clever and he's taking Frank in deep, opening wide for him. Frank pushes deeper, holding Gerard's head in place to stop him pulling back. He makes an indistinct, choked noise when Frank starts fucking his mouth in earnest, but Frank doesn't let up. Gerard looks obscenely good like this, with his lips shiny-slick and his eyelashes dark against his flushed cheekbones and one hand palming his own hard-on through his jeans.

Frank pulls out, a thread of Gerard's spit stretching out obscenely to the head of Frank's dick before breaking. Gerard drags in a deep, ragged breath and looks up at Frank, who runs his thumb through the precome leaking from his cock and smears it over Gerard's lips, hot and sloppy. Gerard looks like a fucked-out mess already, his eyes heavy-lidded and unfocussed. Slowly, without breaking eye contact with Frank, he leans in and drags his tongue all the way up the length of Frank's dick.

"So," he says, panting slightly. "What do you think, huh? 'M I a _decent lay_ yet, _baby?_ "

He's looking straight up at Frank, filthy and fucking gorgeous like a porno centerfold, the nasty streak Frank fell in love with burning bright. Frank feels as if all the breath has been knocked out of him, leaving nothing but a mess of jealous, selfish _need_ , raw and hot and overpowering.

"Christ," Frank manages to choke out, and Gerard's feline smile widens. "Jesus _Christ_. C'mon, open up, let me-- oh, _fuck_ , yeah." He's close to losing it already, fucking Gerard's mouth hard and fast. Gerard gags when Frank's dick hits the back of his throat but doesn't pull off, still hell-bent on whatever it is he's trying to do to Frank. Right now, Frank doesn't give a shit.

Gerard moans around him as he grinds the heel of his hand down against his crotch, and Frank's hips stutter forward. With an enormous effort of will, he pulls back. At this rate, he's going to come before he's had a chance to fuck Gerard, and although there's a box of toys in the back of the closet, the jealous animal pulling Frank's strings snarls at the idea. He needs to drown himself in Gerard, reclaim him completely.

"Bed," Frank says roughly. " _Bed_ ," he repeats when Gerard doesn't move. "Or I'm gonna fuck you right here and you're gonna spend the next week walking funny and showing off your carpet burn."

Gerard's breath catches again when Frank grabs his arm and yanks, pulling him towards the bedroom door. They're both stumbling and cursing, pulling at each other's clothes and hitting the wall and then the doorframe as they go. Frank pushes Gerard backwards until he falls back onto the bed, and Frank goes down hard on top of him. The stupid, too-tight t-shirt Gerard was wearing is lying on the floor somewhere in their wake, and Gerard's skin feels so _good_ pressed against Frank's like this.

"Mine," Frank grits out, grinding down against Gerard and kicking his own boxers off, and Gerard _moans_. "C'mon, I want you on your back. Wanna see your face." He backs off just enough to let Gerard scramble further up the bed and spread his legs, hot and hard and panting. And, god, Frank finds himself thinking, it's no wonder everybody wants him. He could have anyone.

And then Gerard shifts his hips against the mattress, getting comfortable, propping himself up on his elbows and settling his thighs a little further apart invitingly, and Frank's poor neglected dick drags him back into the moment. Frank moves into the wide open V of Gerard's legs and leans in for a dirty, open-mouthed kiss. Gerard watches, licking his lips, while Frank fumbles with a condom from the nightstand, his hands clumsy. It takes him an age to get the goddamn thing on, and that's an age too long with Gerard watching him hungrily.

Gerard makes a thin, needy noise when Frank grabs the lube and squeezes some out haphazardly over his fingers, giving himself a couple of quick tugs. He leans down over Gerard, one hand braced against the mattress by Gerard's side and the other reaching down between Gerard's legs.

"You think you can take it, or do you need my fingers?" Frank breathes in his ear, and Gerard shivers.

"'M good," Gerard says, a whine beginning to color his voice as he squirms underneath Frank. "I can handle it, fuck, come _on_. Fucking-- shut up and fuck me, if you're gonna."

Frank doesn't have any more breath to waste on talking. He sits back on heels, resisting the urge to stop and admire the way Gerard looks, all spread out and desperate on the bed. Frank hitches one of Gerard's legs up a little, and slowly guides himself in. Gerard's head lolls back and he groans as Frank sinks into him, his throat exposed and his whole body arching up. It's too much. _He's_ too much.

Frank fucks him hard, his hips kicking forward erratically and making Gerard gasp and moan every time he bottoms out. He can feel his orgasm coiling tighter and tighter in his belly; he's close, fuck, and Gerard is jacking himself and fucking _mewling_ as he rocks his hips against Frank, hooking one leg around Frank's waist and pulling him in.

Gerard finishes first with a choked-off cry, come spilling over his fingers and his belly. His body tenses, clenching around Frank, and Frank thrusts in one more time with a rough, guttural groan as release crashes over him in waves, aftershocks flickering in its wake.

Frank pulls out as the last sparks of pleasure are starting to mellow into afterglow, and Gerard makes a thin noise of discomfort. Frank clumsily ties a knot in the condom and tosses it away, and Gerard makes a face.

"Gross," he mumbles, stretching lazily.

"You've changed your tune," Frank shoots back automatically, and an uneasy silence blossoms and fills with the sounds of their breathing. For a long, uncomfortable moment, they avoid each other's eyes.

"Sorry," Frank says quietly, after what feels like hours. "I know I was a fucking asshole back there. I don't-- I don't _want_ to be, I just..."

Gerard's mouth twitches into a wry smile. "You wouldn't be _you_ if you weren't a fucking asshole. And I was a dick too. It's your fault, you fuck with my head. Make me act like a goddamn child."

"What, going out and picking up strange men was something you did a lot when you were a kid? That's kind of fucked up, Gee-gee. You wanna talk about it?"

"I-- what? Oh my _god_ , no, fuck off. You know what I mean."

"Yeah."

"And don't call me that."

"Never again, I swear to god."

Silence falls again, but it's easier, less strained.

"Stay here tonight," Frank says, and Gerard raises an eyebrow testily. " _Please_ ," he amends.

Gerard cracks a smile. "Fine," he says graciously. "Come here." He scoots over to make room for Frank (in _my bed_ , the fucker, Frank thinks; god, this guy's gone to his head). Frank wriggles closer and lets his eyes fall shut. Gerard feels... good. That's the best word Frank can find for the feeling of Gerard lying there by his side, warm and solid, his chest rising and falling gently and his hair tickling Frank's neck.

Frank isn't stupid, he knows this armistice won't last. It never does. Next week they'll have another stupid fight over absolutely nothing and the whole cycle will keep spinning until the end of forever, but that's okay. For now, there's this, and that's enough.


End file.
